Thursday, October 1, 2015

Back in the early 80s, my first job was delivering The Virginian-Pilot
newspaper. I was 12-years-old, knee high to a grasshopper, and eager to
earn money to fund the purchase of a complete skateboard.

Each
day, without fail, I filled the basket of my beach cruiser and raced
through my route with finesse. I knew exactly how to bundle my papers,
how to stock them into my baskets and bags with the greatest efficiency.
I had the art of newspaper delivery down to a science.

With the
precision of a surgeon, I learned how to swiftly handle the paper and
toss it without ripping any of the coveted A1 section fronts that
elegantly displayed images from some of the most talented
photojournalists in the nation. At the time, I had no idea that years
later my images would be displayed on this very same section front.

Intermittently
throughout the last decade as a staff photographer at The Pilot, I've
had the opportunity and honor to share the aforementioned section front
with some of the same photojournalists whose work graced the pages I
used to deliver. How times have changed.

Today, those fronts are
still valuable real estate and the photographs that adorn them remain
community gems. However, the paperboy is now an iconic relic of the
past. The journalist furiously slinging paper and ink to make the
evening deadline is sure to follow as the rate to disseminate today's
news is pressed to mach speeds.

Fortunately, somewhere out there
in the unknown aether, a young innovative mind is tinkering with the
future. Unbeknownst to all, this individual, or these people, or this
movement, will develop a sustainable business model for journalism. When
that day arrives, I will be the first one to voluntarily hop back on my
bike and deliver the first edition. Or, more likely, I'll be the first
one to navigate the comfort of my keyboard and pay to have the news
delivered to my phone instantaneously.

That said, like many of
our readers in Tidewater, each morning I begin my day with the paper and
breakfast. It's been my ritual for longer than I can remember.

Tomorrow, I will pick The Pilot off of my driveway for the last time. Tomorrow,
I will work my final day as a photojournalist for my boyhood community.
Tomorrow, I will bid farewell to my Pilot family.

The edit of
photographs below are a selection of some of the images and experiences
you all have allowed me to be a part of and share with our neighbors.
Thank you, Tidewater; it's been an honor.